


What's Destructed 'round You

by Wristic



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-05 13:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11578761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wristic/pseuds/Wristic
Summary: With the better half of your family dead in a fiery blaze at the Sept of Baelor, you are now Cersei’s prisoner, the focus to take out her hollow frustrations, the prophecy inching her further into madness. Jaime can only stand by to watch, as his duty would bid him, for so long.





	1. Chapter 1

Jaime had never known what to think of you. Margaery and you were like night and day, Margaery joyful and bright, you reserved and stiff. Though you did have that shifty eye all Tyrell’s seemed to have.

And maybe in another time it would have been strange to see you crying, but Jaime heard about the destruction of the Sept of Baelor. How Mace, Margaery and Loras had been in there when it blew. At court you never shed a tear no matter how Cersei taunted. You were her prisoner now, but you held so strong in the face of her abuse. Jaime supposed he was witnessing a moment meant for no one, if anything he was being cruel just having stumble upon it.

All alone in the garden, sobs only coming in little gasps, Jaime wasn’t sure if he should just leave. But seeing you cover your face and somehow look even smaller tugged all the right strings. Giving a hard sigh, he quietly made his way to you. If you heard his approach, you didn’t show it, remaining by the small murky pool, trembling into your hands.

He sat down beside, feeling you stiffen. Bringing a timid hand up he rested it on your shoulder, you seeming more frail than ever before. “My lady-”

You spun and gasped. The tears glittering in your eyes and streaming down, you looked oddly beautiful in your misery. A panic was taking you, standing up suddenly with a rushed apology and Jaime had to jump up and grab your arm to keep you from running. His grip was gentle, not wanting to upset you more but not wanting to leave you so alone either. Gritting his teeth he should have just left he knew now. Anyone in the world could comfort you, but not him, not a Lannister.

“It’s alright,” he soothed, leading you back to him. Embarrassed, you tried covering your face. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, because it was all he could think of. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

You stopped pulling from him and let Jaime embrace you. The hug only made you cry harder which only had him hold you closer.

“I miss them,” It was meek and so breathless he almost didn’t hear. You buried yourself into his chest and cried louder, “I miss them so much.”

Jaime pet your hair, apologizing again, but Gods help him it didn’t feel like enough. How was his sympathies suppose to do anything in the brutal destruction of your family, in your imprisonment and torment by his Queen sister.

He held you for a long while, letting you breathe out all the ache in your heart. When you pulled back you didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him. You only kept your head down, silent as could be, and walked away leaving him alone in the full garden.

He didn’t see you again until supper, ‘invited’ to eat alone with Cersei. Alone because Tommen had ended his own life. There was no one now. No husband, no children, no family. Just him, and he feared himself in her presence. Something had changed in Cersei with the death of Myrcella, and with the news of Tommen taking his life, it was like she had accepted it long ago. Now she ate only with you, her hostage company, and Jaime made his way into the room to watch. He’d been avoiding Cersei, but he wanted to see now. Cersei looked to him and it was a mournful eye, Jaime didn’t understand why.

“How is your Grandmother holding up I wonder? Have you heard from her at all?”

You were slow to eat your food, forcing it down mostly. Your face was straight but your eyes seemed far away. “Last I heard she was doing well.”

“Mm. A shame you probably won’t see her again.” you gulped, your fork touching back down on the plate. You two stared at each other until a smirk grew on Cersei.

The breath you took in looked like it hurt. “You’ve taken away my surname. I’m no threat to you-”

“You’ve a certain prettiness to you…don’t you.” Cersei’s smirk grew into a snarl as she held out her cup for more wine. “Such a humble appearance. You look like you’d make a good wife. Possibly, a good Queen. Had you hoped to be Queen one day? Like your sister?”

Jaime felt sick just listening. You were rigid, a glitter in your eye as you held back all your pain. When you spoke your voice was on the verge of cracking. “I’ve never imagined myself as a Queen. I wanted to be realistic, uncontested.”

“There it is again. That humbleness. Some would find it exceedingly attractive. Was it your humble nature that Tommen let you in his room?”

“I was only trying to free-”

“Free your brother and sister, I know. They’re certainly free now wouldn’t you say? In spirit anyway.”

A tear fell down your cheek and Jaime couldn’t watch anymore. He stepped forward, “I think that’s enough.” Cersei looked to him, no joy in her eyes, only bitterness.

But it was you who spoke firmly, wiping away your one tear and straightening your back. “It’s alright.”

“There see,” Cersei relaxed. “We’re all in pleasant company.” Jaime looked between you two, wanting nothing more than to whisk you away trying to be so brave. With clenched jaw and fist, he backed up, leaving the verbal beating to continue.

* * *

He saw you in the garden again, this time far eyed and quiet as the grave. Without looking up, you knew he was there. “You need to stop doting on me. She gets jealous every time she catches you feeling sorry for me.”

Jaime dipped his head like it was something to be ashamed of. He was a gold cloak, a knight, “I’m sorry I can’t protect you.” It was his duty wasn’t it?

“Stop saying you’re sorry.” you sounded irritated. It both took Jaime back and made his stomach drop. Looking to him, your eyes were watered but your voice resolute. “If you can’t protect me than be smart for me. Cersei being happy is the only way I’ll be able to survive her until my Grandmother can rescue me.” you shook your head at him and looked forward. “If you truly feel sorry for me than just keep your head down.”

Jaime tensed, hating the way you said it, _keep your head down, because that’s what you’re good at_. Whispering your name, so much pain for you seeping in, you looked to him and his voice fell. “You’re a very brave girl.”

“I haven’t been a girl in a long time Sir Jaime. Least of all now…but thank you all the same.”

* * *

It was so late in the night, morning would probably come sooner when a knock came at your door. Tiredly slipping out of bed, the knocking becoming more urgent. Opening it you had to rub your eyes to see if it was really him, “Sir Jaime? What-”

Quickly he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, breathless and without armor. “We must go, quickly.” You glanced back at your open door but didn’t fight him, the patters of your feet keeping up with his rushed boots.

“Where are we going?” He shushed you, leading you lower and lower into the bowels of the castle. You sped past the kitchens and the dungeons, past a place where giant dragon skulls rested, hard not to be awestruck by them. Finally you slipped through a tunnel and appeared on Blackwater Bay. At the shoreline was a small boat with a few men, in the dark horizon, a ship waiting for you.

The shock was almost numbing, you still not sure if this was a cruel dream. Jaime turned around finally, pain in his face as it had been since his return, now politely leading your hand. “It’s a merchant ship. They’ve been paid to drop you off at the Reach…but they were promised more at your landing I’m afraid.”

You shook your head to catch your barring. “N-no that’s fine…that’s perfect.”

“They don’t know who you are, some have a guess I imagine so be careful.” you nodded. Standing in front of the small boat, the freezing ocean waves nearly brushed your bare toes. A great pain took your chest as you turned back to Jaime.

“Are you sure about this? To do this…”

“It’s treason.” He smirked. “But don’t worry about me. You are your Grandmother’s strongest and only heir now. Olenna now needs to corrupt you something awful.” he chuckled but you could only stare and hold his hand.

“Thank you.” you finally whispered. Stepping up on your tiptoes, you cradled one cheek and surprising him, very lightly pressed your lips to his.

Jaime was still, his eyes closed by how warm your hand staved off the bite of the ocean wind, how soft your lips were. How long has it been since he’d been kissed so tenderly in such a chaste way. The kiss and your hand said a thousand more words of gratefulness than a simple thank you ever could. He supposed in a similar way sneaking you out of the city said a thousand more apologies than any of his had before. He felt a small squeeze in his hand as you stepped down, your eyes sad.

“I won’t forget this. If you’re still alive when I return, I will come for you.”

You didn’t say anything more as your hand slipped from his. On the boat with the men rowing away, you were unable to take your eyes off of Jaime shrinking away on the shore.


	2. Chapter 2

Jaime expected to see you, and he expected to see you with Olenna, but he wasn’t prepared for the strong hit to his gut at the sight of you unable to look at him as he walked in. Hightower was conquered. The soldiers too far or too dead to protect the last remaining Ladies of the house. The room was painfully quiet, Olenna boldly gazing into the eyes of her end while you tried to remain stalwart by staring into the table, the glitter of tears at the rim of your eyes where the sunlight just barely touched. **  
**

It was not how he wanted to see you again after such hope sailed away on the beach, promising to come and conquer and liberate. Squeezing his jaw tightly closed, he released it along with some conviction, stepping forward, the heavy thud of his boots echoing like a villain there to enact such horrors they’d echo through the books.

Olenna turned her gaze to you, where Jaime couldn’t stop dodging his eyes to, and placed a hand on yours, you perking up obediently. “Wait outside.” Your brow knitted, not in the least a fool in what was going to transpire here once you left, yet she urged you with a nod. Swallowing thickly, hesitating as you rose and still refused to look at Jaime as you brushed by him. As soon as the door closed Olenna caved.

“She spoke highly of you. How you saved her. Bragged about how you were different.” Olenna shook her head at such a fancy her grandchild fell for. “Now you’ll take her back to your wretched sister, I assume to be tortured and tormented again.” Jaime gulped hard, his eyes wanting to see you by the door. “She is the rightful ruler of Highgarden now, she can swear allegiance to Cersei, who would never take it nor need it now that you’ve simply sacked all the resources you could want.” The air was stiff, silent. “So. You’ll kill her before then I hope?”

Jaime felt his heart drop to his feet, beating helplessly on the ground as Olenna nodded, a sly smile taking her, “Take good care of her Sir Jaime, she a gentler heart than any care to see, she deserves a happier ending than I.”

* * *

When he exited, the sunlight bathing your black dress and tear stricken eyes, again he was meeting you and expecting things to be different. You knew your grandmother, the entirety of your family was dead. All by the hands of the Lannisters. Gods guide him how he wanted to be something else standing beside you but now all he could think was that Joffrey died painfully, slowly, his eldest son sacrificed for the legacy of the Tyrells to continue to his next boy. While his brother, loyal and smart and resilient against the torments of the world was driven off to a far away place, to a Queen set on destroying the world as they knew it.

Shutting the door so you wouldn’t be tempted to see, he shuttered a slow breath, rubbing his stinging eyes, still swimming in so many images. Joffrey choking, Cersei’s rage, Tyrion’s trial, Tywin’s grave… you cowering in tears dressed all in black. The laughter of soldiers down the hall startled you, suddenly on edge for darker things to come. Hiccuping you asked, a tremble in your voice. “What’s going to happen to me?”

Jaime shook his head, his fingers slowly drifting from his eyes. Without looking up at you, he took your cold and water speckled hand, trailing you behind him as he walked from the castle, glad you made no noise as he lead you through the litter of dead soldiers and crates of stolen gold and silk.

You rode on his horse with him, slept in his tent, ate at his table, never leaving his sight in fear of what would rain down in a time of victory and war. But neither of you said a word to each other, your stoic walls finding their way up while Jaime thought all hours of the day and deep into the night. What he  _should_ do and what he  _wanted_ to do. What he  _could_ do and what he was  _willing_ to do.

* * *

“Dead, both of them.”

Cersei’s may of had her back turned to him but he could feel her smile under his skin. “You poisoned the Granddaughter first right? Made Olenna watch her choke?”

Jaime sighed quietly, his eyes casting down. “Of course.” She tilted her way back to look at him and he forced a smile. “I know you would not have it any other way.”

Her smile grew, clapping her hands together as she sauntered to him, “Three allies down. The Sea is ours, the Sand is ours, the Earth, is ours. Soon we will have the Sky and nothing, no one can stand in our way from happiness.” She chuckled running her hands down his armored chest. “And all this time we thought it was going to be hard.”

He kept smiling down on her, remaining passive as she kissed him, hungrily ripping him out of his armor and taking him with the feverity of a savage. Parts of him found it almost addicting, how badly she could crave him, the demand to consume him and everything he could give. But by the end he was tired, staring up into the canopy where sleep refused to bless him.

Glancing to her bare chest slowly rising and falling, Jaime pulled up from the sheets, dressing as quietly as possible and sneaking out into the dark streets of King’s Landing. While most of the alleys were empty, the taverns were always bustling, Jaime ducking his head in, ignore the paranoia someone would recognize him. The common rabble rarely recognized a noble or a knight outside of their armors and clothes, their lives too separated from the high walls to know anyone by face alone, or at least he reassured himself.

As he rounded the warm wood walls, eventually he sifted through the many people to find you. Looking so humble and plain without your extravagant gowns and head dresses, refilling cups with a sullen air. A drunk patron tried smacking your behind to get a rise out of you, the slap hitting straight to Jaime’s chest, stinging painfully until you used that cold stoic stare of yours to scare the man into awkward silence.

He couldn’t help the genuine smile, sighing at how gentle you looked under the golden light in a search for more cups to fill. In a sudden wave of guilt the smile dropped when your eyes found him. But you only nodded to the rooms above, disappearing before he could move.

When he met you in the small dark room, barely furnished yet now yours all the same, he was struck all over with nothing to say. He hadn’t spoken to you at Highgarden, on the roads, or even in the negotiation for you to stay hidden here. What was he suppose to say? Sorry? The thought of that one word leaving his lips twisted his gut bringing a foul taste in his mouth.

When he wouldn’t speak, you stepped forward, taking his hand in yours with a small grin that he couldn’t force himself to see as real. Yet you looked up with inviting eyes, eyes that dropped to his lips before bringing yours to them.

You were just as soft as he remembered, just as gentle and sweet and it ached him to feel it again in a flea bottom tavern, made his eyes burn and water as he pulled away and opened them. He didn’t deserve that gentleness, the tender look in your eyes as you waited for him to make a move. Bringing a hand up he held the side of your neck, looking in your face for a spot of hatred or something sadistic like it should. Instead you wiped a lonely tear from his cheek, bringing him into another more open kiss.

He didn’t know if you were truly willing, or if you were caving simply on the bet that if you appeased him you’d keep living under his protection. But when your hand ran back to pull him deeper into your parted and wet lips, he didn’t care. He was dizzy with life and he didn’t care.


End file.
